


Written in Earnest

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Autistic Julian Bashir, Canon Divergent, Everyone lives, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Miscommunication, Oneshot, POV Elim Garak, Post-Canon, Romance, Sweet of Heart Dumb of Ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29308980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Julian is waiting for a letter from an old lover, hoping they could have a life together now the war is over. Garak decides that his dear Doctor has been waiting long enough, and takes matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 13
Kudos: 119
Collections: Star Trek: Just in Time Fest





	Written in Earnest

**Author's Note:**

> Twelve hours ago I posted a 64k fic titled [**Homing Signal**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298513/chapters/71948718) for the [Star Trek: Just in Time Fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile) fic challenge, and then decided I wanted to write another fic before the deadline. SO I DID.
> 
> Months back, my mother heard [“Please Mr. Postman” by the Carpenters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcLbS0yxzdk&ab_channel=MyfavoriteworldPOPs) on the car radio, and suggested I write a Garashir fic for it. This one’s for you, Mama~
> 
> This fic was beta’d within the 50 minutes before this challenge ended (in the _snow_ ) by [ConceptaDecency](https://conceptadecency.tumblr.com/), who also did an AMAZING job running the Time Fest challenge. Could I have better friends? I THINK NOT.

“Join us, Julian!” Jadzia’s raucous laugh fell on Julian’s shoulders along with a pushing hand. “Quark, another round! No, two!”

Jadzia, like the rest of the DS9 crew, was in high spirits. Quark poured bloodwine from glass to glass without stopping, and didn’t even cringe when he spilled the last drop and wasted it. He pushed the tray towards Jadzia, who took it amidst the celebrating crowds, all pounding at the bar and cheering from every barrier of the upper levels. Confetti rained down and scattered across the bartop.

“Worf’s going to sing!” Jadzia told Julian, shouting into his ear so she’d be heard over the other noise. “I know you don’t wanna miss that!”

Julian smiled at her, then grinned, but gently shook his head. He lifted his synthale. “I’m all right here. You go.”

Kira ran up to the bar and snatched at Jadzia, almost dropping the tray of drinks. “Come _on_ ,” Kira insisted. “You’re missing half the party!”

“Tell me about it!” Jadzia called back as she left. “I’ll save a seat for you.”

Kira shooed Jadzia away, then tapped Julian’s arm and leaned closer. “Chief O’Brien’s joined us with Keiko. It’s a full house, now.”

“I gathered,” Julian smirked, peering down into his drink.

“Don’t bother with him, Colonel,” Quark remarked to Kira. “He’s a lost cause. He’s been nursing the same ale for an hour.”

“Something wrong?” Kira asked.

Julian shook his head. “I’m waiting for someone.”

Kira grinned. “Ohhh, right. Your lover from Earth. What was her name, Pa...? Pa—”

“Palis,” Julian answered, before taking a sip of his drink. “Palis Delon.”

Kira patted his back. “Well, when she gets here, both of you should come join the party. We don’t exactly win a war against the Dominion every day.”

Julian nodded. He pushed his mug towards Quark, asking for a top-up.

As soon as the mug was full, someone else approached. With a gasp, Julian turned to check who it was. His hopeful expression melted to neutral. “Oh, it’s you.”

Garak scoffed. “Some welcome that is, Doctor.”

Julian shot him a bashful look. “Sorry. You haven’t seen the postal worker, by any chance, have you?”

“Not since the morning.”

“Hmm.” Julian sipped.

Garak sat down at the barstool next to the doctor. “Are you waiting for a delivery?”

“An old friend of mine. Well, a... a partner. From years ago.”

“Palis Delon?”

Julian looked at Garak with sharp eyes, and spoke with a sharp tongue: “Why do you know that?”

Garak gave him a sly, yet innocent smile. “There’s very little that can be shouted that won’t be overheard, my dear Doctor.”

Julian, although disgruntled, bowed his head and smiled. “I wrote to her a few weeks ago. I predicted the Dominion War would end on this exact day, at this exact time. I booked her safe passage here. Sent her a ticket inside the envelope I sent. I know it arrived, I know she got it and opened it.” He peered back over his shoulder. “She should be here by now.”

“I didn’t realise you’d remained in contact with her since you left Earth.”

Julian grinned a little. “Oh, no! No, I’ve barely talked to her since I joined Starfleet Academy. But I looked her up! She’s teaching ballet now. And she wrote a book that’s absolutely _seminal_ to the way they approach interspecies non-Humanoid dance performance these days. In my letter I told her everything I was doing here, and I know she’d want to catch up. We’d have _endless_ things to talk about.”

Garak studied his younger friend, curious about his certainty. “Wouldn’t a few hours on a communication channel fulfil that desire far more efficiently?”

Julian swallowed a mouthful of his drink too hard, and ducked to recover. “Um. Yes. Why schedule a meeting when a call will do? Yes. I get that. But. I. I figured it would be easier to pick up where we left off if we were actually, you know, in the same place.”

“Pick up...” Garak tilted his head. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Doctor, but the two of you were... lovers?”

“In love! Madly in love!” Julian beamed. “If it weren’t for my choice to go into the Academy, who _knows_ where things would’ve gone.” He shrugged, clearly cheered by his thoughts. “Now the war’s over, maybe we can find out. There’s years ahead of us, Garak. And after tonight, I won’t be the single man sitting alone at the bar while all the other couples do couple things together.”

“You’re convinced she’ll come.”

“Mm. Maybe the shuttle’s late.”

“Doctor... forgive my impertinence, but you did... give her a choice in the matter?”

“Oh! Obviously, yes. I told her she didn’t have to come. She might be busy, I don’t know. She probably is. But I asked her to send a letter to reach me at this time, date, and location if she _isn’t_ coming. So...” He looked around again, presumably looking for the postal worker. “Any minute now...”

Garak pondered. He turned to the bar and ordered red leaf tea with a celebratory twist. While he waited for his drink, he turned to Julian, admiring how he shone bronze in the lights. Garak was proud that the doctor remained on edge even while everyone else had relaxed. Unfortunately his reason for anticipatory tension was not a mistrust of the jovial situation, nor the noise, but some naive belief that he was fantastic enough to win back the heart of a woman who he’d abandoned so many years ago, with the words contained in a single missive.

Of course, Garak thought the fool charming, tossing sand peas up into the air and catching them in his mouth. But no doubt a Vulcan ballerina whose soul was tied to the high life would not be quite as charmed.

“Would you join me, Doctor?” Garak accepted his tea and lifted it. “Perhaps you and I can go somewhere quieter. And we can wait for Palis’ letter together.”

Julian glanced at him. “If it’s all the same to you, Garak, I’m not waiting for a _letter_.”

Garak stood up. He reached and placed his hand on Julian’s shoulder, squeezing once. “I’ll be in my clothing shop. If you ever grow tired of the wait... you know where to find me.”

He left the bar, and went to the blissful quiet of his shop.

He sat behind the desk, and waited.

Eyes on the door.

Julian didn’t come.

  
★  
  


Garak did not often find himself wrong, but it seemed in this instance, he had been. He’d assumed that once the night of celebration passed, Julian would return to his usual self, and forget about this Palis creature. At the very least, he’d receive his letter of polite rejection and might mourn for a few days.

Yet he spent all his time waiting, now.

Every moment not spent at work in the Infirmary, or asleep, he could be found at the bar, hands around a drink, looking hopefully towards the door.

No letter came. And neither did Palis.

Even Miles O’Brien could not tempt him into a holosuite for a game, nor could Jadzia sway him with a party in her quarters. Garak twice... now three times, had asked him to lunch, but for three weeks running, Julian chose to eat at the bar. Garak of course joined him, but found him dull conversation, as he was preoccupied. Each week that passed left him more and more despondent, to the point where his energy seemed grey and his body moved like sludge.

Garak missed his smile.

He missed all of him, really.

On the fourth week, Garak entered Quark’s to ask Julian to lunch, and found he had correctly predicted Julian’s location. Slumped over the bar, head on his hands, fiddling with a napkin. Garak had rarely seen him so miserable.

Garak turned and left the bar, taking a turbolift back to his quarters.

There, he marched straight to his computer. “Computer, bring up my files for Pa-lis De-lon, of Earth.”

On screen: all the tidbits and images he’d managed to cobble together over the years. There was a list of audio files from Julian’s personal logs. There was a photo of Palis alone on stage in a dance hall, balanced on her tiptoes, arms outstretched. She wore the most beautiful lace gown, one Garak would have been honoured to have made.

“Computer...” Garak eyed the contact details at the bottom of the screen. “Open a channel to Palis.”

The screen turned a dozen colours as the computer constructed a connection. Using the dark sections of the screen as a mirror, Garak preened his hair tidy and checked there was nothing in his teeth.

A voice came through. “ _Shoot— Okay! Okay, fine! Delon here, what’s your business?_ ”

The Vulcan woman on the screen had an honest face: wide brows, a soft mouth. She wasn’t smiling, but the lines on her face showed that she did, and often. Her hair was long, black, and uncombed, hanging over one shoulder of an emerald satin robe.

Garak raised his eye-ridges and put on a plain smile. “Ms. Delon? My name is Garak.”

“ _Yes?_ ” She glanced away, nattering something to someone off-screen. “ _Put it down! No, I’m not picking that up! In the reclaimer, please!_ ” She turned back to the screen. “ _Sorry, what did you want?_ ”

Garak’s mouth opened. “I don’t mean to pry, ma’am, but... you have a child?”

Palis grinned in an exasperated kind of way. “ _A dozen of them. Vilix’pierre will_ not _stop budding._ ”

Garak chuckled. “I see. Actually, ma’am, that... genuinely answers a lot of the questions I contacted you to ask.”

“ _Oh? Where are you... pt-pt-pt— Deep Space Nine... Oh! Oh-hoooo, you’re Julian’s lunch partner! Garak! Elim Garak._ ”

“Indeed I am. I am, in fact, contacting you on behalf of the doctor—”

“ _Look, unless he’s forking out to hire a whole shuttle and wing of your station just for my family, tell him his offer is appreciated but I— PASCALE! How many times have I told you?! Stop – eating – your sister’s_ – wings!”

Garak chuckled. “I suspect you had not a moment to write him back, dear lady.”

“ _Ugh._ ” Palis bend forward over her desk, massaging at her flick of an eyebrow with a set of manicured fingers. “ _You know him. He’s a sweet man, means the best, but – no offense to him, I am unavailable for the years of wild educational adventures and endless trips to museums and art galleries that he promised._ ”

Garak felt a pang of jealousy. “Were those his offers?”

“ _Something something, we’ll make love on the roof of a cathedral under a crescent moon at sunset, something something..._ ”

Garak laughed. “He does like to exaggerate.”

“ _Oh, I wish._ ” Palis shook her head. “ _You seem like you have a good handle on Federation Standard, and you obviously spend more time with him than I ever did. Fake something for me, would you? Tell him it got delayed because it was delivered to Bajor by mistake. Just... have me let him down gently. Alright, I need to—_ ”

The communication cut off there.

Garak was left staring at his own stunned reflection.

  
★  
  


“Garak?”

“Doctor!”

Garak shoved every piece of paper under the cushion on his couch and stood up. Julian stood in his doorway.

“How unusual for you to drop by so late.” Garak dropped his pen behind him and kicked it under his couch. “Pray tell, dear friend, what can I do for you?”

Julian entered gingerly, tugging down his pyjama top. “Nothing, really...” The doors hissed shut behind him. “I just wanted to check you were okay.”

“Okay? Oh, perfectly!” Garak stepped out from by the couch, opening an arm to his friend to guide him further into his quarters. “What might have convinced you otherwise?”

“Well, you didn’t show up to lunch today, for one.”

Garak stopped by the replicator, looking back at Julian’s worried expression. “You’re right, Doctor.” Turning to the replicator, he ordered “Tarkelean tea, extra sweet,” and handed it to Julian before ordering himself some red leaf. “I hope you’ll forgive me for abandoning you. Some urgent business came up.”

“Anything I need to tell Colonel Kira about?”

“Oh, not at all. Come.” Garak guided Julian to the couch, and sat him far away from where his letter had been hidden. “In point of fact, Doctor, I hadn’t realised you’d even noticed my absence.”

“Hadn’t n— Garak!” Julian grinned. “Of course I _noticed_.”

“Ah, but when I _am_ there, it seems I’m no more interesting than the salt shaker before you.”

Julian started to frown. “That’s not even _remotely_ true.” He looked down into his steaming mug. “Hmmmm. I guess I have been... a bit lost in my own head, haven’t I?”

Garak sipped his tea, holding Julian’s gaze. “A bit.”

Julian smiled down into his lap. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I do actually need to get to bed. Early start tomorrow. But...” He took a small breath and met Garak’s eyes. “Meet me for lunch?”

“I’ll be at the bar right on time,” Garak promised.

“Oh... maybe not the bar. How about the Replimat?”

Garak’s whole body thrilled. “My dear Doctor, I would be delighted.”

Julian sipped his tea, smiled – perhaps glad it wasn’t synthale – then stood up. He glanced back at the couch. “Were you writing something?”

Garak glanced to the manilla paper peeking out under the cushion. “Oh, _there_ it is. I’d been wondering...”

Julian laughed and shook his head. “Glad I could help.” He left Garak’s quarters with his nose in his mug and a crinkle of a smile at the corners of his eyes.

Garak sat back once he was gone. “My, my...”

If he’d known standing his friend up at lunch was the best way to get his attention, he would have tried that a month ago.

He peered down at the badly-hidden, now crumpled letter, then pulled it out to look at it. He’d have to re-write it all on a different kind of paper so Julian would not suspect.

Ah, well.

If he truly wanted to forge a love letter like this, a second revision would be more believable than a first draft, as a lover with much to say would want to say it perfectly. Garak had been thinking too much, and pausing too often, trying to put himself in the mind of Palis. No doubt what he’d written was disjointed and unnatural.

But if Julian was nearly ready to move on from his old flame, realising he had no chance... there were... perhaps... a few details in this letter that Garak could change.

  
★  
  


Garak touched his hand to Julian’s back. Julian startled, turned, then grinned widely, standing up to invite Garak to sit opposite him.

Garak went to order their food at a public replicator, and served both himself and Julian with favourite meals, ones they’d gone without for far too long. Julian tucked into what he called ‘bangers and mash’ with some enthusiasm, but didn’t start a conversation.

He barely responded when Garak asked questions, and – to Garak’s dismay – kept looking around, on the hunt for the postal worker. He rushed through his food, having forgotten to savour it, then forked at the plate smudges absent-mindedly as Garak worked on his own meal, still cutting up half his hasperat.

This was no way to dine together, Garak thought.

“Something on your mind?” Garak asked, despite knowing precisely what was.

Julian had been scanning the Promenade, chin on a fist. “Hm?” He glanced over. “Hm. Nothing... But... I always wonder if it’ll come today. I think it’s clear she’s not coming in person. And she’s definitely still alive, so it’s not that. But there should be a letter, at _least_...”

“Letter...?” Garak pat-patted his mouth with a napkin. “Oh, from Palis!”

“Yes, from _Palis_. Good God, Garak, where’ve you been these last couple of weeks?”

“Four weeks, Doctor. And, I’m _sorry_ to say, right here.” Garak’s mood had soured a little, but softened when Julian sagged in place, regrets weighing him down.

“Maybe I came on too strong with her,” Julian mused. “I was _honest_ , though. I _want_ someone to be with. I _want_ a romantic partner. I’d love to live in Paris again, I really would. There’s so much there I never saw that I’d love to explore now that I’m older, and... I _hope_ wiser. And not just France, either – all of Earth would basically be a new frontier to me. I got off the planet as fast as I possibly could and never looked back.”

“For what reason, then, are you looking back now?”

Julian’s lips parted as he considered his answer. “I don’t know where else to look, really.” He twiddled his fork at the edge of his empty plate. “Everyone I know is married or paired up. They all have _plans_ now the war is over. Miles is going to focus on his family, as he should. I have my work, but what am I going to do for the rest of my life? Pull chess pieces out of childrens’ noses?”

He sighed, eyes turning away, unfocused. “Palis was the love of my life, once. If I can’t see a future from the present, it seems sensible to look to the past, doesn’t it? She and I really had something.”

Garak stayed quiet for a while. Then he said, “ _I_ don’t have a partner.”

Julian chuckled. “And so, here we are, the last two single sods alone in a matched-up world.”

Garak grunted. “Hm.”

Their silence was disturbed by an approaching figure. Julian sucked in a breath and stood up so fast his chair nearly fell.

The Bolian who delivered the mail wore a smart blue uniform and a pleasant smile. “Dr. Julian Bashir?” she asked, looking between Garak and the doctor. “I was told I’d find you here.”

“Me! Me. That’s me.” Julian made grabbing motions towards the postal worker. He hurriedly read the worker’s nametag. “Churt. Thank _you_ , Churt.” He took the pink envelope he was given. “Thank you very, very much.”

Churt smiled, nodded, then left.

Garak set his napkin on the table and stood up. “Come, Doctor, let’s walk as you read.”

“I can’t believe it’s here,” Julian uttered. He thumbed at the envelope’s edge, trying to pry it open without ripping it completely. “It took so long that – maybe it’s not a rejection! Maybe she’s just going to tell me a date of arrival that suits her better.”

Garak guided Julian down the step from the Replimat and into the walkway of the Promenade. “Maybe.”

“It smells of her perfume. Can you smell that?” Julian held it to his nose and breathed deeply. “Mmmmmmmm.” He offered it to Garak to sniff, and Garak humoured him. Julian had a dazed, glowy look in his eyes. “Smells like that fabric conditioner you bought at that pop-up stall – do you remember? You chose it because I said it was the best smell there.”

“I vaguely recall,” Garak lied.

“I love that smell,” Julian muttered, as he finally got a thumb into the envelope top and scooched it open in segments. He pinched out the pink letter from inside, bouncing in his step now.

Garak steered him around the curve of the Promenade, and they kept walking.

“One page,” Julian said. “Gosh, talk about brevity. Mine was about fifteen pages long.”

“You don’t say?” Garak remarked. Oh, how he would’ve loved to edit that manuscript before it was sent.

Julian beamed as he began to read. “ _My dear Julian_ — Awww, that’s sweet. She never used to call me ‘dear’.”

Garak smiled. “A missed opportunity.”

“ _My understanding is that you someday wish to return to Earth and begin life anew._ ” Julian shrugged. “Hm. I suppose. I don’t really want to start _over_ , though – I... I want to _continue_ , you know?” He gestured at Garak, lowering the letter to watch where he walked. “I’ve learned so much here on the station, I’ve made friends I never want to forget or leave behind. Maybe I didn’t think about that enough. Damn. I hope she didn’t think I wanted to cut off old ties.”

“I suggest you read beyond the first line, Doctor.”

“What? Oh.” Julian got back to the letter.

“ _There would be no greater pleasure for me than to accompany you in a fresh start after all we’ve been through, in places we can someday call home. Perhaps Paris. Perhaps some other city, another town. Another world._ ”

Julian swallowed. He glanced at Garak. “I told her I wanted to live in Paris. I mean... I thought... She loved Paris. It’s a beautiful city.” His walk slowed. “Garak, can I ask you something?”

“Hm.”

“Do you ever want to go back to Cardassia? You’re not exiled anymore, but... you haven’t left Deep Space Nine. Why?”

Garak gave his friend a warm smile. “You’re still here.”

Julian rolled his eyes, then lowered them to the page. “Hm. Might not be here for very long, it looks like.” The lilting cadence of his voice from before had settled now. He swallowed and examined the elegant handwriting. He held most of the letter folded closed so he couldn’t see all of it at once.

“ _I’ve long been considering my retirement. If you are amenable to the idea, I would love to make a modest home with you, where I can open a small clothing shop to entertain my hobbies. Or, as I sometimes fantasise, we might travel together. We can see all the things we missed out on over our lifetimes, and enjoy them with fresh eyes and each other’s intimate company._ ”

Julian gave a tight smile. “Makes sense. She’s a dancer – I told you, didn’t I? – and she’s already too old to perform the same way she used to. She teaches now.”

“What of the clothing shop?” Garak asked, heart in his throat.

“She was a biiiig fan of the costumes she wore on stage. Maybe she wants to sell them. Hey, the two of you would get along.” Julian smirked, then let his eyes wander to a porthole as they passed. He stopped there, then stepped into the quiet alcove. Garak stood with him, looking out at the stars.

“Garak,” Julian said distantly, “I know it’s probably out of the blue, but... would you come to Earth with me?” He looked hopefully at Garak, who was surprised to see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. “I just...” Julian frowned and lowered his gaze. “I don’t think I want to go alone. And you and her _would_ get along. At least, I imagine you would. Depends how much she’s changed. Her writing style’s lightyears away from what it used to be.”

“You’re inviting me to Earth?” Garak was dumbfounded by that. “What of the romantic fantasy you’ve constructed for this old lover of yours?”

Julian blushed in discomfort. “I—” He scrunched his lips to the side, examining the letter. “I didn’t really expect her to say yes. It does sound like she’s saying yes, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Her reply took so long to get here, I almost... started to hope... she wouldn’t...” Julian shut his eyes and shrugged. “I think I just wanted _someone_. Not specifically her. This all sounds lovely, it really does, but... I don’t want to...”

Emotion stole Julian’s breath – so Garak took his elbow, sensing he needed reassurance.

“I can’t leave you alone,” Julian murmured, eyes on Garak’s chin. “Like I said, we’re the last two lonely sods aboard this station and I can’t just flounce off with some woman and leave you behind after a _war_.”

“‘Some woman’?” Garak repeated, amused.

Julian flashed him a stiff grin. But then grin faded. He unfolded the next section of the letter.

“ _I love you,_ ” Julian read.

He stopped there. He slapped the letter to his thighs and glared out of the window. “ _I love you and I want to be with you,_ ” he said.

Garak touched Julian’s lower back. “You seem upset.”

“I don’t know her, do I?” Julian was affronted. “What was I _thinking_ , begging her to elope with me? We’ve been apart most of our adult lives! Certainly the part of our lives where we actually _became_ something. I am definitely not the man who left her. Who does she think she loves, exactly? Who did _I_ think I was writing to? Dear _God_ , Elim! Anyone I’m actually going to fall in love with isn’t going to just mail me a letter asking me to fly around the galaxy forever or settle down without spending time with me first. Where’s the part where I fight for her? Where the part where she tricks me and tries to redirect my attention? Where’s the part where I actually _feel_ something for her besides wanting not to be alone?”

He sighed viciously, and lifted the letter to read the rest.

“ _Tell me what you want, my dear..._ ” Julian’s lip curled in distaste. “Who does she think she’s ‘my dear’-ing? Only _you_ call me that. And you _earned_ it.”

Garak stared at this silly, silly man, and wondered how he could be so intelligent and so utterly stupid at the same time.

Julian sighed in a blast and unfolded the last section of the letter. “Where was I. Yadda yadda, _yours if you’ll have me, signed Elim Ga_ —”

Julian snorted.

He read that part again.

Then he smirked. “Okay.” He folded up the letter. “Thank God.”

Garak waited for a response. “Doctor?”

Julian patted Garak’s chest twice with the folded letter. “Hilarious.”

Garak tried to search his eyes, but Julian just looked out of the window, shaking his head.

“Ahm... F-Forgive me, Doctor, but—”

“No, it’s good! It’s good.” Julian tucked the letter back into its envelope. “Sorry I’m not full-on laughing, my head’s a bit foggy. But it is funny, I promise. Kind of a massive relief, as well. God, what a _nightmare_. All I was thinking was... what the hell do I say to her now? I had no idea how to turn her down. Oh, I changed my mind! Yeah, that would go down well.”

He heaved a sigh, and looked at Garak with a watery smile. “Thanks. That, uhmm.” He palmed his forehead. “ _Really_ good wakeup call.”

Garak’s mouth hung open slightly. “And... do you... wish to take action?”

Julian pulled a noncommittal face. “I probably have to, now, don’t I? Tell her to _disregard my previous letter_. Which she clearly already did.”

“No... I...” Garak swallowed. “My dear, I mean me.”

Julian met his eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“D... Don’t you...?” Garak found himself breathless and internally frantic. He’d been so careful to put everything he wished to convey down in his letter, exactly as he wished it to be read, and now he was forced to say it aloud anyway. He looked out onto the Promenade, searching for a way to feel less closed-in than in this alcove full of overwhelm.

“I,” Garak tried, voice small, eyes set on Julian’s hands, “I would very much wish to join you on a trip to Earth. Perhaps, as you’ve said... in Paris.” He met Julian’s eyes, hating that he was vulnerable now. “Perhaps on Cardassia.”

Julian nodded. “Alright.” He reached to pat the back of Garak’s shoulder. “We can take shore leave.”

“To live, my dear. To live out our lives.”

Julian glanced at him. “What?”

“A fresh start; a continuation. As—” Garak hadn’t realised he would need to spell it out, not in the letter, nor aloud. “As romantic lovers. Sexual, if you so desire.”

Julian stared.

Garak stared back, but his resolve weakened with every second. “Please understand me,” he whispered without meaning to.

Julian blinked a few times in rapid succession.

“You waited so long,” Garak told him, “for a letter from your lover. All I saw was you desperate for someone, _any_ one to love you, my dear, but you failed, as you have failed for too many years, to see that there is already someone who adores you. I meant every word I wrote, Julian. I meant it. You’ve waited long enough. And I will not allow you to wait any longer.”

Garak burned with longing now, hearing his own words echo in the silence that followed.

But Julian seemed to have frozen up, attention focused only on one of Garak’s eyes. He almost seemed to be staring past him.

“Doctor,” Garak said.

Julian blinked once, mouth open.

Garak’s aching heart decided he himself had waited too long.

He hung his head and gritted his jaw. “I was not joking, Doctor.” He turned to step out of the shaded alcove. “If fighting to win someone over is something you’re invested in doing, I suggest you come up with a plan of attack.”

And with that, he left, too disappointed to feel the pain in his heart as years of private daydreams and newer hopes slowly tore themselves to ribbons.

  
★  
  


“Garak!”

Garak kept his head down at the bar, hands around a synthale. He lifted the mug to his lips and sipped.

“Garak...” Julian came to the bar, his energy frenetic. “I’m sorry I’m late, I thought you’d be at the Replimat.”

Garak didn’t answer, as he had nothing to say.

Julian perched himself on the next stool along. “Garak, could we talk somewhere else? Where there’s fewer people. I don’t want to be looked at while I say this.”

Although he had no true inclination to leave his barstool, Garak grunted and left his drink behind. Julian exhaled in relief, and hurried ahead to lead Garak up the stairs, then out of the back entrance of Quark’s. He scampered on, then came back, then went ahead again, like an excitable pet. Eventually he had Garak where he wanted him: a quiet side of Quark’s, where people didn’t often pass, but the warm lights from inside filled the dark hallway with firelike ambience.

“Are you all right?” Julian asked gently.

Garak met his eyes, wanting to be angry, but instead finding himself tired. “I’ve been better.”

“Garak, I—” Julian swallowed, then covered his mouth with his palm, eyes wandering as he formulated his words. “I didn’t... realise. I didn’t know.”

“That much is clear.”

“I was _shocked_ ,” Julian said. “Everything happened so fast, and I— I genuinely thought you were having me on. You lie, Garak. That’s what you _do_. When you lie to me it’s because you’re playing with me. I thought that’s what you were doing, and if you’re upset that I made assumptions based on past behaviour, then it’s your own damn fault, okay?”

Garak snorted. He didn’t appreciate being blamed, but allowed the comment to slide. Unfortunately the doctor was right.

“But I’m sorry,” Julian said softly. Garak felt warmed by his tone. “I’m sorry I’ve been so blind to your feelings. I’ve never had a better friend than you, someone who... accepts me... and isn’t _annoyed_ by me—”

“Most of the time,” Garak interjected.

Julian laughed and pawed at his cheek, embarrassed. “Most of the time.”

He gulped, then turned his eyes to the black pipes above, and uttered, “I thought we were friends. We are... _still_... friends, aren’t we?”

Garak sighed. “Yes.”

“Then that won’t change,” Julian said. “I promise.”

Sulking, Garak replied, “So, I take it you’d rather nothing else develops between us. Does the offer to travel to Earth together still stand, or would you like to rescind that offer?”

Julian made a breathy noise. “Ah...! Actually, I have a...”

He patted at his uniform, chest and hips and thighs. He finally found the pocket, rarely used, and tugged out a bent white envelope. He unbent it and offered it.

Garak eyed it warily, but took it, determined not to feel hope.

The envelope was not sealed, merely tucked closed. He opened it and peered in. Between two fingers he pulled out a slip... no, two slips, which he realised were tickets.

“Paris,” Julian said. “You and me. Two weeks from now. One way.”

Garak smiled. Despite his heartache, he nodded. “I would be honoured, my dear.” He cleared his throat. “My dear Doctor,” he corrected.

“‘My dear’ is fine,” Julian said. “It’s kind of a couples’ trip, anyway. May as well lean into it.”

Garak felt a flare of annoyance. “Your turn to taunt me, is it? A _couples’ trip_?”

“Oh— Oh. No. Elim, I—”

Julian looked horribly uncomfortable now, pained in every way.

Then he blasted out a sigh, uttered, “For goodness’ sake,” then lurched forward and pulled Garak into a kiss.

Garak squeaked and dropped everything to hold Julian’s waist.

He was fairly certain there was no way to misunderstand this.

Julian meant it?

He meant it...

Julian rolled into the kiss, head turning, lips pursed, then gently opened his mouth and made a sound of delight when Garak relaxed.

Then Julian relaxed all at once and _sighed_ , hands scrunching up into Garak’s hair. He broke the kiss with a gasp and whispered, “I realised it while I was reading the letter I thought was from Palis. I realised I didn’t want... her. I wanted to bring _you_ with me. So I could— So you were with me. I didn’t want to leave you. I—”

Garak kissed him again.

Then again.

It seemed that, even after years of engaging each other in conversation, while Julian eternally tried to pry truths from Garak – even after Garak was nothing but truthful in _writing out_ what he wished to express – even after everything – the war, the lunches, the fights, the laughter...

Finally... they were both on the same page.

****

{ the end }

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Shoutout to my fellow aromantic asexuals, or anyone else who isn’t into the idea of being with somebody. We can be single sods together!


End file.
